


it’s not polite to stare, but you make it so easy

by Jacynon



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Body Worship, F/F, Fluff, Pining Jester Lavorre, Porn with Feelings, Sexuality Crisis, jester does a bi panic speedrun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:33:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24439003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacynon/pseuds/Jacynon
Summary: It wasn’t as if Jester thought girls shouldn’t be with other girls. It’s just, she saw herself in the protagonists of the books she grew up with and none ofthemhad girlfriends.She slowly began realizing that her life might just be a different genre than what she always thought she wanted.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 17
Kudos: 336





	it’s not polite to stare, but you make it so easy

**Author's Note:**

> Am a woman who loves women, i don’t have anything else to say

Its starting point was in hindsight probably the massage.

Well, no - it was the first time she’d ever seen her mother with another woman that informed the little sub-plot in Jester’s life that was her developing understanding of love. 

And she was _still_ developing it, mind you. Life had a way of calming down just as quickly and easily as it could spiral out of control and that was what Jester liked about it. In the midst of adventure and her friends being more integrated into the political world than any of them were in hindsight comfortable with, romance became more of a benign novelty and less of a latent priority. She knew of many potential suitors and it never seemed the right time to actually pursue them.

What she really cared about at the end of the day was keeping her friends and keeping them safe. That took up enough time and energy already.

That didn’t stop her from wanting her fairy tale romance, however.

It just seemed less and less a viable option as the days passed. One by one, each of her likely candidates were ruled out with the ones still available changed beyond recognition. Who would have been her love interest? 

The Traveler was everything she hoped for in a friend and in a potential boyfriend, though he never seemed too comfortable with her pursuits in the latter category and in retrospect she was more than glad for that. She always trusted him unconditionally and that was maybe the reason they never would’ve worked out in the relationship category.

She still liked to dream, though. It was probably a better idea in theory than in practice.

Fjord seemed for a time to be her best bet and he was, quite frankly, her first real crush.

She might’ve had a very particular fantasy - somehow she would lead him to the Traveler and he’d be hooked both on him and on her, he’d be open to getting a new patron and it wouldn’t have been nearly as painful as the process turned out to be, and the Traveler would save him just the same as how Jester was saved as a child - but that never came to be. Fjord was different and it wasn’t entirely because of her. 

He’d changed all on his own and with help from Caduceus, with help from Caleb and Beau, with help from everyone there because they were part of a family and not in fact the main characters of a romance novel.

And don’t get her wrong; that was great. Fjord didn’t quite grow into who she imagined he had the potential of being, but he did grow. He was softer and sillier. He was more secure and it was, Jester hated to admit, mostly because of his draw toward the Wildmother.

Plus, he looked way hotter as a Paladin.

Outside of him was, of course, Caleb.

Whenever Jester thought of Caleb, she was never sure of which emotion to feel first.

Above it all, she was sure she could have any relationship with Caleb and just appreciate the fact that they were in each other’s lives so long that she got to see him happy. Happiness was all she ever wanted to give him since the night she saw the dark loneliness in his eyes just a table away reflected so vibrantly in her own. Loneliness was the easiest emotion to identify for Jester since she knew it so well. She always wanted to offer kinship to the people she saw it in, just the same way she was.

It too was the same with Essek.

Of course, her chances with Essek despite how handsome he was were near zero from the moment they met, but she somehow managed to practically bully him into a friendship and that was more satisfying than possibly seducing him ever might’ve been.

Their brief time traveling alongside him after they first returned to Rosohna was awkward and tense nearly the whole way through. Then he, or more specifically his shadow self, suddenly flung her body across a cave to get her out of harm’s way. It hurt, but it saved her from a forty-foot drop directly into boiling magma. She could tell it was pure instinct. 

She saw the surprise in Essek's eyes, the eyes of yet another selfishly independent person who’d just had their moment of fully realizing they care about someone else.

It might’ve been possible for something to spark between them if she weren’t smarter than that. 

She just couldn’t believe she was overthinking the looks he gave Caleb. It wasn’t subtle. _Caleb_ knew, and quite shockingly seemed to be responding. Essek was handsome and capable in every way and would’ve been the perfect candidate if he’d just had any interest in her at all.

Jester just...didn’t ever want to feel like she was chasing someone.

It was probably something she should’ve seen coming the moment Beau joined herself and Fjord early on in their journey - the fact that life wasn't something she could've ever been prepared for.

Beau changed quite a few things about how Jester looked at the world and it wasn’t just because she’d been the first woman Jester knew personally who was also into other women - other than her mother, obviously. Jester remembered how few and far between her mother’s Lady clients were and yet how they always seemed to leave the Ruby in a much better mood than most of the Lords would. It was never something Jester knew how to question.

She didn’t know many girls who were into other girls, but she didn’t know many girls _at all_ to begin with.

That was why, really. It chalked up mostly to how Jester rarely had friends. She got her idea of love from books and those books never seemed to answer the right questions.

It wasn’t as if Jester thought girls shouldn’t be with other girls. It’s just, she saw herself in the protagonists of the books she grew up with and none of _them_ had girlfriends.

And even though Jester always considered her best confidant to be her mother, the woman in question wasn’t the type to pry. She was barely available as it was, not for lack of trying, and reiterated many times in Jester’s youth how she wanted her daughter to be able to talk to her instead of being so overbearing as to inspire secrecy. 

It was one of the final nights her friends planned to stay in Nicodranas before heading back east that she decided to finally, finally ask her mother about it, though she didn’t exactly like thinking of it as a _finally_. It’d been on her mind recently, was all. She wanted to keep it casual. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. She definitely didn’t want to wait until the last possible second to bring it up. 

Jester was quite familiar with not getting what she wanted.

Sitting on her mother’s silky bed and watching as she went back and forth through her walk-in closet, Jester thought the lull in conversation was her perfect opportunity. 

“You have, like, women clients, right?”

A bright purple sequined dress in hand and a displeased expression on her face, Marion Lavorre stopped for a moment and turned her head back to her daughter. She pursed her lips in thought as if going down the mental list of which Lords were in her professional favor at the time. "Not currently, but I have before."

Jester nodded

The question was stuck, hanging on the back of her throat until she pushed it out. "What's it like with them?"

Nerves were getting to her for no good reason. Jester knew her mother well and knew how supportive she’d always been about all of the young tiefling woman’s antics and escapades, but it still felt especially revealing. It was as if asking the question aloud made it _mean_ something. 

Like they always did when faced with anything her daughter found even the slightest interest in, Marion's eyes lit up.

"Oh, it's wonderful," she began, clapping her hands together excitedly after neatly laying her outfit on the end of the bed. "Here, honey. Give me just a moment."

It took but a few minutes of shuffling and movement of what sounded like boxes and crates in the very back of her closet. Smiling in anticipation of what she knew was coming, Jester sat up and folded her legs underneath her impatiently. Her mother came into view with three novels of varying sizes and shapes - one a dark hardcover, one a bright pink paperback with a flower print design along the spine, the last brown and leatherbound - all stacked on top of each other.

That was her mother’s go-to solution and in her eyes it seemed to work out fairly well. Books of the fiction variation weren’t often cheap and, as a result of her profession and connections, a lot of the ones she would be gifted and allowed free copies of coincidentally did have sexual content. That said, it wasn’t the porn Jester liked.

Well, that wasn’t _all_ she liked.

Sex was just something her mother did for a living. It was never taboo or that interesting and apparently wasn't even reflective of real life.

Jester was blessed with wonderful friends who made the urgency to fill in the gaps of information that came with the relationship trial and error process she mostly missed as a child feel lighter on her shoulders. The need for a first kiss or a first boyfriend or a first time took a backseat to their adventures and their developing family. With them, with _all_ of them, she didn't feel like the wide-eyed little girl thrown into a world bigger than herself the way she feared she was.

Well, she still did, but in other far less lonely ways.

Her friends were the reason she turned out so miraculously, uh, alive. It wasn't the books.

But she loved her mom too much to say that out loud, so she took a handful in her arms and threw them into her bag with a thank-you and a tight hug. 

She tried to savor it as long as possible since she knew it would be some time before they were able to see each other again.

* * *

Jester tried to read one of the books on a rare quiet night in the Xhorhaus - the brightest most eye-catching one, obviously - and struggled to keep a straight face so badly she had to stop in the middle of the third page. The worst part was how she did so not from laughter but from the fact it actually got her flustered. 

It was badly written, sure, but that was the type of content she was used to. She wasn't used to those specific descriptions.

On top of that, it seriously had to include a massage scene. That was the first chapter.

That might've been par for the course of most books she tended to read, but it still felt jarring.

It wasn’t as if she wanted to picture the olive-skinned protagonist with jade eyes and flowing black hair as a decidedly different form - one she knew a lot better - and she had to silently remind herself that Beau wasn’t the only woman she’d ever known to be with other women. That said, Beau was still the one she knew the best and Jester did pretty recently get into massages, so was it really her fault if her mind started to wander? It was just association.

There were certain ways she fantasized about what her first time would be like. It always mildly scared her to think of being with someone more experienced than her and, though she knew full well Beau had a decently sized list of past partners going, that same fear wasn’t there with her. 

In its place was the thought that Beau would be - in theory - obviously with some _other_ girl who’d been sheltered and lonely - extremely kind and open to teaching the basics.

Jester imagined a faceless blushing dame underneath a smirking Beau, open and unsure but in very safe and capable hands. There would be a reassuring _I’ve got you_ whispered into the trembling woman’s ear while Beau would find her most sensitive spots with ease. For Jester, it was her neck and tail and fingers, and _maybe_ her mind conjured a picture of the mystery girl taking a certain blue tiefling form while Beau held her hand and pulled her into a close embrace, pressing their chests together.

Well, that was one option, but what if it were the other way around?

Would Beau have let someone inexperienced explore her body? Would she have ever allowed herself to be touched and seen - to be wound and opened up enough to find which parts of her skin ached most? Jester tried to search her brain for any indication of what places might’ve been more tender and came up empty, if not for her lack of previous observation then definitely for how embarrassed she was at the very idea of thinking about her friend that way. 

Suddenly, she became all too aware of the thin shorts and top starting to stick to her skin. She shook her head. 

It didn’t make the heat creeping up her shoulders go away or the burn in her stomach subside.

The book seriously had to include a massage.

It wasn't the shittiest coincidence of her life, but it certainly felt like it in the moment. Every time in the last few months she decided to start giving her best friend massages replayed in her mind. The moments felt private and secret even then, but thinking back on them with a newly discovered yet still unsure attraction made Jester feel that much more perverted than she knew herself to be. 

A burning pit grew in her stomach. It didn't feel right to be thinking of her best friend that way when giving objectively non-sexual care - even when the best friend in question liked other women. Especially then.

All she knew was that she really wanted to do it again. 

It must’ve been an extension of her growing inexplicable obsession with bodies.

Putting it that way seemed wrong somehow, but she didn’t know of another way to describe it. She’d been instantly fascinated with every new person she had the chance to meet and especially so if they were of a race she never saw up close before, but even that perpetual curiosity didn’t explain the way her eyes were always glued to the newly reformed Fjord and the tusks he’d been growing out, or why her hands itched to run through Caleb’s hair, or why she’d frequently imagined herself wrapping around Beau’s constantly exposed abdomen whenever they were alone.

Touch was becoming an addiction.

Before she could indulge in any more self-doubt, Jester jumped at the sudden noise of the doorknob twisting, propping herself up on her elbows.

She was glad to’ve long since shoved the books back underneath her bed by the time the door swung open, revealing an exhausted Beauregard. Her frown was exaggerated and dramatic, but she still mustered a lazy wave to Jester. The sweat-covered and panting woman then put her staff off to the corner and promptly flopped her back onto her own bed at the other end of the room. 

Jester hopped up to the edge of her mattress and cocked her head to the side with a smile. “Alright, I know that look,” she said, hands folding together in her lap, “You need some TLC.”

Wordlessly, Beau shot her one look and let out a deep content sigh before flipping over and slipping her top over her head without bothering to get up, letting it drop to the floor.

Though she couldn’t pinpoint the exact time, she was sure evening had come. It was hard for Jester to keep herself from being excited about every new time she got to spend sleeping near Beau. Nights spent in the Xhorhaus just felt so terribly domestic in a _happy epilogue_ sort of way in comparison to the times they’d have to rest on the run with one eye open. They had a place to call home and it was a strange thing for everyone to openly accept, moreso for the ones whose concepts of home had been tainted or warped.

That was...most of them, really. Not Jester. She loved the shared space and hoped they could keep it forever, granted they didn’t destroy it somehow.

Beau seemed to have no complaints with what Jester tried to make a nightly ritual, those silent moments where she’d work out the kinks in her friend’s back and smooth over her muscles. It was nice to have something for _them_ , something she did for Beau that she didn’t do for anyone else.

Also, the tattoos were a bonus.

She just couldn’t stop looking at the tattoos.

Jester had a feeling she was becoming just a bit too into them.

In her defense, they looked good on just about anyone and elevated an averagely attractive person to complete dreamboat levels. That was objectively true for women, too. She was sure if she were to ask any of her friends, they’d all have agreed that Yasha wasn’t allowed to have tattoos else she would become far too powerful for anyone’s good. At the very least Jester mentally reserved the right to be the one to give it to her.

There was something starkly intimate about marking someone’s skin permanently. She wondered if one day she would be able to give Beau a tattoo.

One short glimpse to the mirror as she crossed the room showed a dark want in her eyes, though she might’ve been imagining it based on how her stomach twisted and burned. She tried to remind herself it wasn’t any different from the few other times she’d given her best friend a massage. 

“Thanks, Jes. Seriously.”

Jester smiled in response, but it was strained. The gratitude felt bittersweet alongside the heat in her core.

Candles dimly illuminated the room and it certainly set a mood Jester wasn’t intentionally going for.

She climbed on the bed, knees resting on either side of Beau's legs, before handing a pillow over for her to rest her head on. There was no delay as she got to work pushing little experimental circles into her friend’s back. Jester’s movements were mechanical and sharp, trying to pinpoint the parts of Beau’s body that needed the most attention. Jester might’ve been stronger, but Beau’s muscles were toned and statuesque like one of the finely carved action figures the lonely tiefling would play with as a kid.

 _The base of her neck, just under her left shoulder blade, her right side triceps_ \- the intricate eye matched Jester’s intense stare. She made sure she was able to brush the sharp design with each stroke and press from the base of her palm and fingers.

There was a small, barely noticeable indent in the inked lines weaving along her shoulders and up her neck to the back of her head. After a brief hitch in her movement just above Beau’s shoulder blade, she went upward just to get a better feel when her fingers slid over them.

"It feels so cool," she said without thinking, too entranced to care if it made her sound obvious.

Turning her head to the side, Beau eyed her curiously. "What, the tattoo?"

Jester nodded while her index finger much more deliberately traced the markings, as if to demonstrate. "Yeah, yeah. I can feel it," she said before gasping excitedly and putting her other hand to her upper chest. "Here, feel mine!"

Running on impulse was something the two always had in common, so the offer somehow didn’t come off as blatantly forward as Jester feared it might have. Beau followed her lead as they switched positions.

With her latest outfit she found a simple sleeveless undershirt sufficed as support under her green coat. That is to say, she liked to take every opportunity she could to not wear any breast padding. Beau was her best friend and constant roommate, so they'd seen each other naked multiple times before and nudity really wasn’t that exciting or strange on its own anyway.

Feeling the air on her exposed chest still made her feel self-conscious in a way she always had to fight and it took effort to keep her breath steady.

Only a slight amount of uncertainty later, Beau put a hand on her shoulder and rubbed with her thumb across the wavy lines just below the clavicle. Jester resisted the urge to tense up.

On top of that, her own fingers twitched in a physical yearning when she glanced down at the crossing slash on Beau's lower chest. There on full display was the scar Yasha gave her. For such an emotionally taxing experience, it at least made for a good looking aftermath.

It obviously wasn’t the tattoo that caught Beau’s attention most. Her hands didn’t stray from the markings, but her eyes definitely did as she breathed out almost instinctively, “God, you are ripped.”

Jester didn’t fight the grin on her face. Hearing her own thoughts reflected back at her brought on a blush she was glad she could hide with laughter. And _God_ , Beau’s hands were calloused and rough in a way that made Jester’s mind wander to how they might’ve felt in other places.

"Cool, right?"

"Yeah," Beau nodded enthusiastically. "It feels different from our other ones. I wonder if it's because they're, like, magically imbued."

As if to compare, Beau turned her gaze lower. Her fingers moved downward to poke at the interlocked _CC_ that mirrored her own on Jester's left arm. A short gasp wrenched from the tiefling’s mouth and she snapped it shut as quickly as she could, even if Beau’s busy eyes weren’t inclined to catch it. They were seemingly analyzing the innocuous symbol with intense scrutiny, like she'd somehow lose track of it if she looked anywhere else.

That was, until she decided to bring her hand to rest on Jester’s shoulder. Beau flicked her attention upward. Eyes narrowing in concentration, she started tentatively rubbing at the base of the tiefling woman’s neck.

Unsure in her action, Beau’s eyebrows furrowed as if she were trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re really good at this,” she said, squeezing and releasing her friend’s blue skin at random intervals. “How do you…?”

It took a moment of Jester’s brain short-circuiting to realize what she was trying to ask.

She started, “Oh, here,” before shifting Beau’s hand position, lowering her thumb to just under the bone and demonstrating a circular motion.

Jester never had issue with figuring out how to give a good massage. It came naturally to her where to place her hands and how to gauge someone’s desired pressure. To Beau’s credit, she was picking it up pretty quickly and soon enough she was pressing nice little spirals all along Jester’s shoulders. They fell into a silence neither felt capable of breaking.

Eventually, Beau tried to cut through the tension. “Am I doing it right?”

Somewhere in the back of her foggy mind Jester wanted to respond with a fervent _yes_. She very well might have done so.

Honestly, she wasn’t entirely sure. 

Her memory cut off somewhere around that time since that was about when she fell asleep.

Now, she wanted to carefully point out that it wasn’t _her_ fault.

It was dark, even for a city with a sunless sky, and Beau always made her feel safer to sleep around even when they weren't huddled so close together, and her hands felt _good_. As Jester’s insides were slowly turning to mush, she didn’t notice her eyelids lowering in the black silence.

For a short moment, she woke up to a perpetual darkness that couldn’t have reliably told her what time it was even if she could accurately map out the constellations. She just knew she heard some thumping directly downstairs and decided Caleb was awake, which meant it was likely anywhere from midnight to early morning.

Beau didn’t wake up, though. She stayed exactly where she was, snoring softly, which turned out to be curled up right on top of Jester.

Her head rested just to the left under Jester’s chin, one arm hanging off the bed and the other wrapped across the tiefling woman, the two shirtless and pressed tightly together from Beau’s full body weight.

Beau’s steady breath hit Jester’s neck in a way that set her nerves on fire. She stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, willing herself to be still.

The room itself wasn’t even hot and they hadn’t been wearing a blanket, but Jester felt like a furnace from the inside out. Just the shared body heat was enough and yet it didn’t compare to how badly the proximity and the contact affected her. She’d cuddled with Beau before. It just never included quite so much _bare_ _skin_ and they were both typically awake for it. Also, Jester wasn’t normally having an internal meltdown over the fact that she could close her eyes and mentally map out every inch of Beau’s upper body.

As she tried not to wake or stare at her sleeping best friend and as she tried to survey her surroundings in a half-awake stupor, it felt like she was doing something wrong or particularly immoral. It at least felt vaguely foreign.

It must’ve meant something for her heart to be hammering in her chest, but she somehow found herself falling back asleep. 

The next time she woke up, Beau was gone.

Draped over her instead was the blanket from her bed across the room.

Jester brought the covers up over her head. Then, she let out a loud groan.

* * *

For how devastated and borderline shameful she felt at her action and subsequent inaction that one night, Jester found it didn’t make a difference in their relationship. Beau seemed to forget about it as quickly as the day passed.

That whole afternoon Jester spent sketching Beau’s back, paying particular detailed attention to the tattoo.

What followed was Jester in a constant state of vaguely horny for a good week. She was always a _little_ horny, but that particular elongated revelation that she was, first: hot for girls and second: specifically hot for her best friend, even she knew was excessive.

Over the course of the next few days, she waited until her friend was sound asleep before opening up one of the novels. She’d always been the type to be reading more than one book at a time, needing her mind occupied on several things at once. She quickly found what she expected to be a novel bound in leather was more of a hand-written journal from the perspective of one Iestyn Alora recounting her re-connection with an old friend and fellow victim to the trappings of a long dead cult, though it read more like a story than any real diary might have.

That one she was so invested in she found herself wanting to talk to Beau about it all the time, but insecurity always stopped her.

In their downtime, it wasn’t abnormal to see them lounging in their room reading respectively and Jester never once felt strange if her own book included porn. Still, something about those in particular felt different - more private - less something to flaunt with the same casual amusement as she might’ve even done with some of her more raunchy novels.

And one night she came to that realization; that Beau wouldn’t be able to know what she was reading just from the cover for any of her newest literary additions. It gave her the small push she needed to stop worrying about keeping it a secret. After all, if Beau knew about them, what would really have been at stake? Maybe nothing, maybe a lot. It didn’t matter either way because Beau wouldn’t have noticed.

Beau shouldn’t have noticed.

Of course, she did.

It’d been exactly one of those times and a comfortable quiet moment at that when Jester’s periphery caught the sight of a narrowed gaze in her direction. Beau, who’d been slowly losing interest in her own mostly educational and extremely boring text, jumped at the opportunity for a distraction. 

The question was practically asked just by her gaze doing a quick double-take at the book in Jester’s hands, “What’s that?”

Thankfully, it wasn’t the same one Jester got her semi-successful massage idea from, but it unfortunately also wasn’t the leatherbound one either. It’d been at the very bottom of the stack when she was handed them that night in Nicodranas and therefore was the first one her mother thought to give, one hardcover copy without a discernible defining factor on the outside. Its title, _Haunting Streams of Emerald_ , resided on the first page inside.

Such a dramatic title seemed inappropriate for the immense amount of aimless porn.

Jester didn’t know how she could’ve imagined anything being described within it without ever feeling it before, but she was a damn creative person and easily filled in the blanks.

Panic began to set in Jester’s stomach. She tried to come up with the type of response that would’ve roused the least amount of suspicion. “Oh, it’s smut,” she said as casually as possible, though she accidentally took it too far by continuing with, “This is the kind you might like.”

Sudden interest sparked in Beau’s eyes. 

Jester silently chided herself and, seeing the other woman close her book and stand from the windowsill she’d been leaning against, her stomach dropped. Real anxiety built within her each step her friend took across the room. She couldn’t have hid it or else it would’ve been more incriminating, so she eagerly and a little too forcefully handed the book over once Beau sat down on the bed with her. 

It took only a short glance at the page for Beau to realize the content of the novel. “Woah,” the monk said with a growing grin. "Woah, woah, woah. Where did you say you got this?”

Jester was fairly sure she didn’t mention it before, but the conversation served as a decent distraction from how badly she wanted to avoid certain more personal questions. She explained, “My mama. That’s where I get most of my books. Or, y’know, where I got them before.”

Instead of pushing on the subject, Beau just directed her attention at the book itself.

As she continued to read, her excited expression devolved into confused disappointment and at last outright incredulity. Her lips pressed together and her eyebrows gradually rose as if the book in her hands might've suddenly come alive and attacked her at any moment. Jester knew in the back of her mind that if she could tell it was bad, there was no chance of Beau missing the dramatic flowery prose that tinted every scene with unintentional hilarity.

"Is there anything less sexy than the word _folds?_ This is kinda garbage,” and as she flipped through the pages all the way to the back, her eye line stopped on one point, whatever it was written there enough for her to let out a displeased, “Oh. That explains it.”

“What does?”

“A book about sex between women written by a man?”

The name _Bertom Helmund_ was printed in tiny letters at the bottom of the back page, as if to hide it from anyone curious enough to look for the author.

Understanding clicked in Jester’s brain, though it was accompanied by a bit of dejected diffidence. She was actually quite enjoying the book even if she knew it probably wasn’t true to real life. It wasn’t like she had much to reference in comparison.

Still, she knew to respond with, “Oh, yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Feelings she couldn’t identify raged through her with how much it felt like she was keeping a secret in plain view. It was a guilt similar to when she realized Fjord was pretty genuinely uncomfortable with some of her more overt flirting. She thought often about how never crossing that line and just propositioning him for sex already was the best dodge she’d ever made in her life. It probably would’ve been a mistake for the both of them if he didn’t outright turn her down.

In her mind, she doubted she could’ve done it anyway.

Jester was, for all her perceived knowledge on the topic of sex and romanticized secondhand experiences, a virgin. That was mostly by coincidence. Sex just happened to never be on the table for her in a setting she felt comfortable with. She wanted to swear up and down that it didn’t bother her to be one, but it still wasn’t the type of information she wanted shared with everyone. Or anyone, for that matter.

She didn’t mind people speculating details on her sexual promiscuity. Really, she thought it was hilarious to see what other people thought of her experiences based on how openly she talked about sex. It's just - she didn't want those assumptions to come from her loved ones. She despite herself always feared her friends' views of her.

It was especially terrifying to think a possible suitor might've thought of her as more experienced, or for Beau to have thought she was a shameless pervert. Well, more of one than she really was. Love was a messy thing.

 _Love_ put a strange taste in her mouth. "It feels like books treat sex and love like they're the same thing," she speculated aloud to herself before turning to Beau. “You’ve had a lot of relationships, right?”

Caught off-guard, Beau’s eyes widened at the question.

She shrugged noncommittally. “Kind of? Depends on how you’d define a relationship.”

“What do you mean?”

Beau crossed her legs on the bed and looked down to the silken pale pink sheets that seemed almost made for Jester, rubbing her arm with conflict in her eyes. “There’ve been, y’know, varying levels of _serious_ to my relationships and hookups. I don’t wanna be the chick who didn’t try,” she stated, possibly over-explaining but never to a point that Jester would’ve ever stopped her. “I just don’t get my hopes up ‘cause things don’t tend to last.”

A spark of earnest empathy passed through Jester.

It occurred to her in that moment that maybe asking Beau those questions was a mistake. She’d been with plenty of women before and Jester knew that implicitly, but it was one thing to imagine Beau having sex with them and another entirely to imagine Beau falling in love with them. Jester knew her best friend not for her fortified walls but for the fervid emotions lying behind them, the love she must’ve felt for everyone if leaving them was indeed her worst nightmare and the pain she kept locked inside for fear that showing it would just serve to incite more.

Jester knew Beau well and only ever wanted to know her more. Even so, losing a loved one was her biggest fear and her second biggest was for her loved ones to lose theirs.

“Not like in books, huh?” she asked, somewhat rhetorically.

Finally putting the book down on the bed, careful to leave it open out of consideration for keeping Jester’s place, Beau frowned. “What? Oh, well, yeah. Even not-porn books don’t show relationships how they are in real life most of the time. Pretty much never.”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Jester knew that. It didn’t change the fact that she grew up on books.

Romance was always her favorite genre, even back when she was a kid.

“Um, so how would you describe - like, you know - a kiss?” and she went on to clarify, “In real life.”

Beau quirked an eyebrow. “I mean, you’ve - “ and she paused, the rest filled in the silence. _You’ve kissed people before._ Except Jester hadn’t really, outside of the _maybe-_ kiss with Fjord, and Beau knew that. She cleared her throat before starting again. “Right. Uh, it depends on the person. Everyone kisses different. I kiss different depending on who it is I’m kissing.”

“Just tell me how much tongue you use, percentage-wise.”

“Like fourty,” Beau’s hand made a waving give-or-take gesture as she rolled her eyes. Shining bright within them was an adoration even Jester recognized. “When you are using it, anyway. What’s the other percent? I actually don’t know what I’m supposed to be comparing this to. Is this a tongue-to-lips ratio I’m working with?”

Not even trying to fight the smile growing on her face, Jester let out a giggle and responded, “What other part do you use to kiss?”

That combined with the general absurdity brought the both of them to full on laughter.

So, life and relationships were nothing like books or fairy tales. If Jester’s life _was_ like a fairy tale, Beau would’ve been a perfect knight.

But then, that wasn’t really all she had the potential to be. It could turn out that Jester’s the knight instead - the brave hero who saves the princess instead of the princess herself, the pirate instead of the treasure - but anyway, she thought once about if Beau would carry her into a sunset and came to the conclusion that it would fucking rule.

She just never knew if that was something Beau might’ve been interested in. “Is it important to you to find someone to be with? Like, for the rest of your life.”

Suddenly Beau dropped her smile. She considered the question seriously for a moment before rubbing the back of her neck. It didn’t seem something she put a whole lot of thought into. “I’ve got you,” she gestured, but stopped at the implication before correcting herself, “Y’know, you guys. Fjord was right. Don’t tell him I said that. But I’m not goin’ anywhere if I can help it. Besides, I have bigger goals than finding a date.”

“What are they?”

Like any other time she was forced to talk about her feelings, Beau seemed ready to deflect. It might’ve had something to do with the fact that it was just them that she decided against it. “Dunno. Keeping you guys safe. Seeing the people we’ve saved stay safe, too,” she reluctantly explained. In an attempt to divert attention from herself, she asked, “What about you?”

At that, Jester turned away and gave a vague grumble.

That turned Beau’s deflection into genuine interest. “Just give me a goal. Like, what’s a general life goal you’ve got? Just one," and knowing her friend well, she quickly added the condition of, "Outside of everything with the Traveler."

That qualifier ruined the automatic response Jester was definitely going to give.

"Other than the Traveler, huh?" she asked herself quietly. After a few seconds trying to wrack her brain for something, anything else she wanted to do with her life, she came to what should’ve been an obvious conclusion. “I want to make...a fuckton of money.”

Beau blinked at her. Then, she burst out laughing.

Sensing she’s being misunderstood, Jester insisted, “No, but like, lots,” and Beau, not dropping her grin but quieting down to listen to her friend’s explanation, leaned back against the headboard and waved her hand for Jester to continue. “Enough to give back to my mama because she always gave me money for stuff I wanted. I used to disguise myself as other people and go on little shopping sprees.”

That got Beau intrigued. “Like, as a kid? By yourself?”

It wasn’t something Jester often told other people. Her childhood wasn’t what she would’ve called very exciting outside of a few select moments. Even her antics got a bit monotonous before she met the Traveler and before she learned properly how to cause just the right kind and amount of chaos. Her mother trusted her to go into town, to socialize without giving away who she was.

Those times, times she got to interact with people whether or not they were her age and whether or not they knew it was her, those were the ones that stuck out the most in her memory. She became well acquainted with some of the shopkeepers, would call them by name even if whoever she took the form of that day had never seen them before, got banned from nearly every store for her general shenanigans before coming right back with none the wiser.

Her fond reminiscing nearly made her forget to respond. “Usually. Sometimes the Traveler would be there,” she grinned, hoping silently he was watching somehow even if he might’ve been too busy at the moment. “We would go and meet a lot of people. I started - you know, I started making more friends once he taught me how.”

“Just insert yourself into their life?”

Jester winced. “When you say it like that - “

"I don’t mean to imply - y’know,” Beau interjected, stuttering and trying to backtrack on her unintentional jab. “It’s obviously worked on all of us. Worked on me.”

It had. Jester knew that had to be at least partially the truth if she was so wholly surrounded by people she was at least mostly sure loved and cared about her. 

Still, that little inkling of doubt never quite left her. It went against her nature to be quiet or demure or to just leave well enough alone even if she knew well she was being annoying or disruptive. Part of her wanted to be more like Beau and Nott - better able to use their cunning and opportunism to get out of or into situations, or like Fjord and Caleb - those who knew how to talk to people and mould themselves in much more effective ways than she ever could.

Wringing her hands, she pressed her lips together and her eyes turned downcast. “It’s - well, I didn’t grow up with a lot of friends. I learned how to talk to people from my mom,” she began, though she came to a sudden realization right as she said it. “But I don’t think my mom knew how to talk to people, either. I mean, she did, but she’s the more _one-on-one, getting to know you_ type. She really likes to get to know you.”

It was different when it came to large groups. That part, Jester couldn't relate to.

“Sounds like that’s something you got from her,” Beau stated. “But, y’know, I think you’re good at talking to people. It’s like you’re naturally charming.”

Compliments weren’t always easy to take, more when it was Marion Lavorre she was being compared to. Jester admired her mother deeply. Hearing she was like her in any way gave her a feeling of uncertainty, like she was being wrongly heralded for traits she didn’t actually have just by virtue of being somewhat similar to the other woman in question. She didn’t have her mother’s grace, her charm, her ability to understand and be personable - at least, it certainly didn’t feel that way.

But she couldn’t have said any of that and Beau sounded just so sincere that all she could do was push her hair behind her ear and quietly say, “Thank you."

Comfortable silence fell upon them before Beau took yet another look over at the abandoned novel.

“You still wanna read?”

Earing the corner of the page she’d left off, Jester closed the book and slipped it back under her bed. “Not really,” she replied. One line of questioning remained on her mind, however. She didn’t know how to approach it, so she did what she knew best and barreled right through. “I do still wanna know what’s wrong in it, though. How is sex with two girls _supposed_ to work?”

It was meant to come off more as a joke, but Beau’s eyes widened to a comical degree. She laughed awkwardly, averting her eyes. “I’ve offered you a chance to watch before.”

Flashes of Reani and Keg and other past flings Beau was more than willing to share the details of ran through Jester’s mind and she tried really really hard to remind herself that she liked most of the people Beau dated or slept with. Seeing Beau kiss other girls was on its own something that took her breath away in a way that churned her emotions to an incomprehensible slurry.

The idea of watching Beau with another woman? It had a tiny appeal, but one largely overshadowed by white hot jealousy.

“Yeah, no,” she said definitively.

Jester paid no attention, none at all, to Beau’s exposed abdomen when she lay down sideways on the bed and propped her head up. It definitely didn’t distract her from processing her friend’s next offer, “Are you looking for a firsthand experience? We have the gold and the means.”

Or, well, it might’ve, because what was actually being asked went right over her head until she let it process in her brain.

It never occurred to her that she could've just...hired someone, so to speak. It should've crossed her mind at some point. A good number of her friends had indulged in that and it wasn't as if she had a negative view of sex work, obviously, but the idea of taking part in it herself didn't seem an option.

“Not as my first time,” she finally decided.

Beau thankfully understood without question. “Fair, fair.”

Still, it didn’t stop plaguing her mind. She wanted to know more about what it was actually like, about what Beau knew girls liked and didn’t like, about Beau’s preferences in specific. 

_Don’t look at her hands_ , was a distinct thought Jester had right as she was looking directly at Beau’s hands. She wrestled her gaze to meet Beau’s face instead. “What do you normally do with a girl?”

Seeing how serious Jester was being and just how much it bothered her to know so little about something others seemed well-versed in, Beau sat up and gave the query a significant amount of thought. She put on an exaggerated thinking pose, head cocked to the side with her hand on her chin, then cleverly responded, “Me? Well, I like to start with the thigh-touch,” she said, a proud smirk on her face. “Classic move. Never fails.”

An awful idea popped into Jester’s head after hearing that.

“Like - like, how? Here, show me.”

Before she lost her nerve, she took Beau’s wrist and placed it on her knee.

The move seemed at first not to compute in Beau’s head.

Her eyes slowly moved up to her friend. It dawned on her that Jester fully expected her to give a demonstration and her eyebrows shot up dubiously. “That’s...I mean, you sure about that?”

It took a nod, then another near full minute of hesitation before Beau got her bearings and tried to grab hold of control once more.

Exhilarated nervousness filled any and all empty space in Jester’s head when the hand began slowly travelling up her leg, fingers slipping down to part them just slightly.

Already, Jester was getting worked up. She ducked her head to hide the dark purple tint she was sure showed on her skin. “Oh. I get it.”

Realization started dawning in Beau’s eyes. “Hey, Jes - “

Jester’s lips were on hers before she could finish.

It was short. It wasn’t even much of a kiss, since Beau didn’t do much other than tense up. It also gave Jester a sense of immediate regret. When she pulled away, Beau was completely frozen and staring at her with eyes large as saucers.

Reality crashed down on Jester all at once.

She barely heard Beau’s loud exhale, didn’t at all notice the spark in her eyes as she breathed out, “Oh,” she said simply. “Alright, we’re gonna need to talk about this.”

“I really like you!”

The sudden outburst only threw Beau off more.

“What?”

“You said we need to talk about this. That’s me talking about it.”

There was something strangely frantic about how quickly Beau shook her head.

“God, this is surreal. Where did this come from?”

“It came from me. I really fucking like you.”

“No, I - I got that. But - “

“I’ve never...I mean, you know, right?” Jester interjected, desperate to try and give some excuse that might've at least softened the blow of what was clearly like a giant boulder crashing down on them. “You know I’ve never really been with anyone before. I think it just took me a while. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“What? Wait, why are you apologizing?”

Jester groaned. Having to explain it only made her feel even more stupid.

It should've been something she didn't need to point out. “For - for, I mean, I just kissed you. I know you and Yasha flirt a lot,” she explained. Though Yasha wasn't the only woman on her mind Beau seemed pretty genuinely invested in, they definitely had the most history Jester knew of. “She’s beautiful. It makes sense you’re into her. Like, seriously, I get it.”

Beau was once again frantically shaking her head before Jester even finished.

She sputtered, grasping for a response in her distraught confusion, and the fact Jester knew it was her fault only made her feel worse. “I mean...no. We’re - I don’t know. It’s complicated? You know she’s not really into the dating scene,” Beau stated. “If it makes you feel any better, she asked me if you were single when we all first met.”

The blue tiefling gaped at that. “No way!”

“Really,” Beau said with a short incredulous laugh, like she couldn’t even believe it herself, or like she couldn’t believe what was happening in the moment. Probably the latter.

Then, despite the unsolved problems lingering in the air, they shared a quiet smile. It was one for the both of them, the kind to let each other know things would be alright between them regardless of how it all turned out. That was how Jester interpreted it, anyway. She tried not to look directly at her friend.

It was Beau who decided to break the tension. “I, y’know - I like you, too. Clearly. Just so we get this straight.”

Jester’s head snapped up to attention.

She couldn’t have believed it. Her voice was more raw and vulnerable than ever when she asked, “You do?”

As if it was a stupid question, as if Jester should’ve known it already somehow, Beau stared at her incredulously. “Yeah? Yeah, I’ve been into you for...fuck, I don’t know how long. I just never thought…"

She didn’t need to continue.

It absolutely felt like a scene from a novel - maybe not a fairy tale, but something equally gratifying in a way Jester feared the real world never was. She fell for her best friend and her feelings were reciprocated. Jester liked Beau, liked her a lot, loved her in some ways even she hadn’t been aware of until recently. And Beau liked her, too. She’d liked her for a long time. It didn’t seem real or possible, it must’ve been an exaggeration, surely she would’ve noticed if Beau was into her.

...Except, well. Beau had basically stealth-confessed multiple times before, right? But, were all of those instances when she knew she had feelings for Jester? Did she know when she said _everyone has a crush on you_ , or when she said _I love you in a way?_ Did that include herself, and in what way did she mean at the time?

Hundreds of things Jester wanted to know floated through her frenzied brain, but the only one she could bring herself to ask was, “Can you touch me?”

Beau gasped quietly and her eyes lit up like it was something she’d been wanting to do her whole life.

“Sure. Yeah, no, that’s fine,” she nodded, keeping her composure much more effectively than Jester. “Uh, okay. What do you want me to do?”

“What do you want to do?”

“Anything you want.”

Jester snorted. “Oh, wow. Fuck you," she said with a grin.

Returning it with one of her own, Beau decided her best choice was to pick up where she left off and she put her hand back on Jester’s leg, much more confidently this time. Her other, she rested on the back of Jester’s neck and began caressing it slowly. Jester’s heart was already hammering in her chest, her body already ridiculously hot from how turned on she already was from before and from the buildup.

It didn’t take long for her to be breathing heavily enough to hear it herself and she instinctively tried to control it, swallowing hard as her shoulders and cheeks flushed. Only Beau’s thumb was moving back and forth on the inside of her thigh, but the contact still felt profoundly intimate as the culmination of a longing she didn’t before fully understand and was only then feeling the full intensity of.

Beau’s hand moved just slightly, pulling her legs open, and though the other woman didn’t fight it she still raised her eyes to make sure. “Alright. You want me to keep going?”

Excited nodding proved enough of an answer, but Jester would’ve done any amount of pleading just to make sure Beau never stopped touching her.

Jester let out an uncontrollable squeak when Beau suddenly moved closer to her on the bed and gently shifted her hand from her thigh all the way upwards, running just her middle finger up and down the front of her shorts.

It was equal parts mortifying and exciting to know she was wet and that it would’ve been all too obvious in due time. Her hand rushed to cover her mouth to block out the tiny whimpers she was sure came from a combination of distress and deftly rising arousal. It shouldn’t have made that much of a difference to have someone else’s touch instead, but Beau’s finger felt like a strip of gentle fire caressing her. It was a new sensation and Jester wanted desperately to become intimately familiar with it.

The teasing quickly became unbearable, the heat growing inside of her to the point that she thought the bed might’ve caught fire, and she couldn’t help speaking up. “I - I - should I…?” she cleared her throat after hearing just how terribly wrecked she already sounded. They barely even _started_. “Should I take my clothes off or something? Is that what I’m supposed to do?”

Beau’s hand stopped moving and she stared forward, taken out of the moment.

She evidently found her voice a lot easier. “I mean, if you want to. I won’t tell you not to. No pressure, though.”

Jester nodded and clicked her tongue. She replied with a bit of relief, “Okay.”

Her tone was obvious enough that Beau picked up on it and shifted her hand over to rest on Jester’s hip. “Yeah, no, I get this is kinda new for you. I can just ease you into it if you want. Don’t have to get naked, don’t have to do more than the touching,” she stated.

Not wanting to come off like she was at all disinterested, Jester rushed to say, “I mean, I don’t mind being naked, I just think right now is _a lot_ and - “

But Beau didn’t seem offended by it and quickly interrupted to reassure her, “I gotcha. Just let me know whenever you’re good.”

The sigh let out served also to in part calm the tiefling woman’s nerves. That was enough of a cue for Beau to start tracing a steady line just above the hem of Jester’s clothes. It tickled her skin, the plain shirt she normally used as pajamas no longer fitting enough to reach the top of her shorts. She felt suspiciously naked already without her normal layered attire, so stripping even more would’ve just been unnecessary and would’ve seemed more revealing than it really was.

Her nipples were sticking out quite visibly from under her thin top. That, Beau also took notice of.

The hand on Jester’s neck slipped down her shoulder and stopped just above her chest while the other’s fingertips lifted her shorts just slightly. It was the smallest pause, but it was so maddening she only saw red when Beau asked, “Is this okay?”

Jester's voice came out low and nearly like a growl before she took hold of both of Beau’s wrists - the higher to squeeze her breast and the lower pulled down underneath her shorts so the other woman’s hand brushed against her. “Yeah, fucking touch me already.”

A good amount of blood rushed right to Beau’s face, but she kept a stony and impassive expression, looking almost impressed. “Oh. Alright,” she said in a concisely static way very unlike herself, “Cool.”

Jester narrowed her eyes, beaming at her and openly holding back laughter. “‘ _Cool.'_ ”

Instead of annoyance or embarrassment, all that showed on Beau’s face at the light mocking was amused fondness and that was enough to put butterflies in Jester’s stomach again.

Then, Beau's fingers were moving against her.

A line of saliva trickled down the side of her open mouth and just then, for only a second, there was a hitch in Beau’s movement. One look at her gave away why - pupils blown out, mouth open in an impossibly turned on awe - and Jester wiped it from her horribly flushed face. Her hand stayed there, like she was partially hiding herself, up until Beau’s hand slipped from her chest to take hold of her wrist, holding it firmly against the headboard.

With her free arm, she wrapped it around Beau and gripped her shoulder, pulling her into a kiss much deeper than the peck she gave before. If she wasn’t a good kisser, Beau didn’t make note of it, and thank fuck for that.

“This is better than I imagined,” Beau said the second they pulled away.

Their foreheads rested against each other as she slowly pressed against the front of Jester’s panties. 

A more furiously purple blush spread across her face and she laughed a little hysterically, if only because she didn't know what else to do, and because the tension was just so thick, and _God,_ she really didn't know what she was doing. She leaned back and looked down to meet the other’s gaze. “You’ve thought about this before?”

“...Yeah?” Beau said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, pulling away just enough to avoid looking her in the eye. “Jester, have you seen yourself?”

Pushing past the pleasure was a fervorous craving to know everything Beau had ever felt about her. The shock was dulled somewhat by their position, but it made Jester's stomach flip. Beau hadn't just returned her feelings - she'd felt them for quite some time.

Without warning, the hand working her and putting pressure tormentingly sporadically on where her clit was most vulnerable drifted upward and pulled down the front of her underwear.

Suddenly Beau’s fingers were directly sliding along her bare skin and there was nothing to hide just how wet and pathetically _wanting_ she was.

Profoundly pleased with herself, Beau let out a slow, “Oh, wow.”

There was nothing Jester could’ve said to take control of the situation and she was sort of okay with that.

That didn’t stop her from trying. That, or she might’ve been trying to do anything she could to keep Beau talking, because something about the woman’s naturally laid-back tone made it perfect for the bedroom, and _of course_ Beau had so many women willing to sleep with her. “W - What did you, ah, imagine?” she asked, failing to keep her voice as steady as she would’ve liked.

“Pretty close to this,” Beau’s voice was raspy, but contained and unwavering. “I just never thought you’d be this eager.”

The words sunk in like quicksand and Jester, being the type of person bad pick-up lines sometimes actually worked on, was utterly enamored with them as they sent a slow wave of warmth through her. Reverence coated her response as she rid herself of hesitation. “Oh, you really know what you’re doing."

A breathy chuckle of disbelief shook Beau’s shoulders.

She spoke in such a whisper that Jester nearly couldn’t hear. “I can’t believe you sound this good.”

It was becoming so overstimulating, tears started to well up in her eyes. She didn’t even realize how hard her nails dug into the exposed skin of Beau's shoulder and upper back until Beau let out a groan.

“Sorry! Sorry,” and relaxing her grip apologetically, Jester gave a hiss of sympathy at the marks peeking out from the other side.

The deep exhale Beau let out wasn't one of pain, though. It sounded much more like a moan. “That feels pretty nice, actually. You wanna keep doing that?”

Jerking backwards in surprise, Jester observed the face of her best friend and the sight she was met with made her insides burn. Beau wore a relaxed smirk, her vivid blue eyes with a tinge of dark lust and gratification that seemed to at least partially come from the pain. It was a strange thing to want to be hurt, Jester thought, but she also found something inside her was absolutely _thrilled_ by this new information.

That was something to analyze for later. Right that moment, she found it a better course of action to press a tentative kiss to Beau’s neck before biting down on it hard.

“ _Ha_ ,” Beau laughed in half disbelief and half delirious delight, “Holy shit.”

The thought Beau was enjoying this just as much as she was sent Jester right over the edge. “Beau,” she shakily moaned, “I - I’m really - I’m - “

“I know,” Beau said hoarsely.

It hit her all at once. All Jester could do was arch herself forward and bury her face in the crook of Beau's neck, whining and trembling as the orgasm rocked through her and she jerked her hips up against Beau's hand.

Books just didn’t do it justice - even the ones Jester did think were pretty decent. Moments like those were always described so brazenly and left Jester thinking it was always supposed to be a tiring experience, as though people always fell right asleep after sex, but did she consider what she just did with Beau _sex_? Was that the right term to use? She didn’t know and it didn’t matter to her in the moment since she felt pretty damn good either way.

She wasn’t tired, though. She was energized and strangely sober.

When Beau slowed down and removed her hand, pulling away just enough to leave a short gap between their bodies, Jester felt instantly cold. The heat returned to her right away once Beau leaned back and put her hand on her own pants, lifting it just at the edge. “You mind if I...?”

 _That_ , Jester could do. She didn’t care how enthusiastic she was displaying herself as - she more than happily re-positioned herself behind Beau and locked her hands across the woman’s bare waist. Her arms wrapped around Beau and she eyed the four light marks still left on the skin of her shoulder and back from Jester’s nails. They didn’t seem to be deep and should’ve easily faded by morning or by way of a warm bath, but it was oddly satisfying to see them.

Just once, she lowered her lips to meet them before resting her head on Beau’s shoulder. She gave a tight squeeze from behind and muttered in her ear, “Go ahead.”

Just then, she made a silent realization as she held Beau and watched the woman finger herself that it'd been with the same hand she used to get Jester off.

She pressed her face down to cover it with Beau's shoulder. In the near silence and darkness, she heard the faint wet sounds mixed with deep moaning and they sent shocks down Jester's spine. 

There weren’t any words she could've come up with to say, a million cooing compliments both at the tip of her tongue and lost among the haze of want and need that wasn’t quite fading. She wanted to say anything at all as she peeked out to watch Beau work herself to a gasping mess in her arms, but all she did was match the noises with her own soft whines.

Right alongside those feelings was a strange growing euphoria that set in more surely once Beau started to come down as well.

Jester lowered her grasp and Beau turned, the two facing each other once more.

It didn't last as Jester found her limbs felt like they were made of jelly. She collapsed on the propped up pillows with a sigh. Opening just one eye, she gave Beau a pointed look, scooting over and gesturing to the spot next to her. It wasn't a big bed and they were certainly going to be shoulder to shoulder, but that was part of why she wanted Beau there in the first place. It might've been the whole reason, actually.

Beau of course took the invitation.

For a good few minutes, they stayed there and listened to each other’s heavy breathing.

Jester was, as per usual, the one to break the silence. “Beau, I thought of another life goal.”

“Hm?”

Too many questions ran through Jester’s mind at once. Did this mean they were together? Was that what Jester wanted? One small flicker of doubt lodged in her mind that she was another name on Beau’s list, but they were friends - best friends - roommates and teammates - they were always together and surely that meant something. Surely that meant the emotions boiling inside of her weren’t going to be taken lightly.

Part of it was certainly the afterglow, but that swelling adoration in her chest was new and familiar at the same time. It felt like she was going to burst, like she didn’t know what she wanted to do other than squeeze Beau as tightly and as closely as possible.

“The same one you have. Keeping you safe.”

It was sappy. It was cheesy. Even so, Beau didn’t make fun of her for it.

Instead, she got quiet in much the same way she often did whenever she carefully considered something Jester said. It felt at times like she was the only one to do that - the only one to take her seriously - the only one to _see_ her.

And when Beau finally decided on what she wanted to say, it wasn’t at all what Jester expected. “I had this kind of dumb idea when we were talking about that. When we got this place, I thought it was the coolest shit in the world. It felt like…” Beau trailed off in a way that said she knew what she wanted to say and not at all how to say it, but she found the way somehow. “Like, I had this sort of fantasy where we’d all still travel, but we’d have a home and we’d stay together.”

Jester rolled over on her side and looked openly at Beau. “Why is that dumb? Where would we go?”

Not at all prepared to answer those questions, Beau just met her gaze in a dumbfounded wonder.

“I don’t know.”

Suddenly, all of the insecurities and doubts Jester temporarily forgot about came flooding back to her. She didn’t know how to bring it up, but she figured she had to at some point or another. “Did you - you didn’t _want_ to leave, did you?” she asked carefully. “We’ve brought it up a lot. We’ve been talking about it for a long time and I just keep wondering if, maybe, there’s something that’s making you want to leave?”

It was something she hadn’t even realized she was worrying about deep down until she knew how to address it. All the same, it didn’t seem to’ve crossed Beau’s mind before, either.

Her head shook over and over again, waving away Jester’s concerns. “No. It’s seriously the opposite. I’m afraid constantly.”

"Of what?"

Honesty wasn’t always the easiest for Beau and Jester knew that.

That was why she was so, so proud of her when Beau admitted aloud, “Losing this,” and specified even further with a pointed look, “Losing you.”

It was the first time that night Jester started thinking maybe, _maybe_ her feelings were returned with the same passion and vigor she felt ever since uncovering them.

“I’m not going anywhere and neither are you,” she said, a silent promise in her tone. “Or, wherever we do go, we go together.”


End file.
